BANS
by Brokula
Summary: Welcome back, Hunter. (SYOC - open for side characters)
1. Green Trailer

DISCLAIMER: the following text is not meant to be taken seriously, I do not own the original.

* * *

 _ **Green Trailer**_

* * *

 **Aron Green** :

* * *

Enter theme: 'Riders in the Sky'

 ***Congradulations.** A womanly voice speaks ***Humans haven't been on this part of the Remnant for years.**

A gray boot steps into a small puddle, splashing on the dry desert floor around it.

"Nice place to visit." Over the boot, an olive green cloth cloak as the person stops "Wouldn't want to live here."

Through the empty desert, a ball of dead grass rolls around.

 ***Dying here is much more likely.** the female voice answers back casually.

He stood before a western old looking town. The entire block was literally falling apart.

" _Ni~ce_ prep-talk." The green-cloaked figure pumped a fat shotgun over his turned shoulder.

A sign from the barber shop broke off and hit the ground as the guy stopped before the big rotting bar.

 ***Detecting enemies ahead.**

He places a bunch of small green box gadget around the entire town, getting behind a rotting wooden fence " _Knock, knock_." Pulling out his big, blocky gun.

 ***Who's there?**

A shock wave was created with the power of recoil of the big gun as a round ball took off from it and broke straight through the bar window. Or rather what was left of it.

All the shadowy figures in the one room instantly turned to look at the small black ball with a red dot roll by them.

" _Science_!"

Then it beeped.

Exploding in a million ashes as the entire building was torn to bits. One of the burning planks from the wall flew by the boy's face, lighting up his crazed grin and shining off of the pair of big goggles pasted over his face under his moss green hair.

A tiny nuclear explosion didn't seem to faze the boy much as his grin never faltered "By the lights of Newton… The test was a total success!" a gleam in his eyes shined brighter than the radiation.

The tower of flame disappeared, being followed by a big smoke cloud.

A silence passed, but the winds never stopped…

…

 ***Well, that was anti-climythic.** a small bubble like drone popped from over the guy's back.

Another epic surge of wind blew from the hole in the ground that was once the town center, followed by a number of screeches and angry howls.

Pumping the gun, it clicked back to the original setting "Time to test my babies out." A swarm of black and white exited the hole in the ground bloodthirsty and ready to slaughter.

Only for the small sticky boxes to open up, turning up at least a hundred barrels out on the open followed by red guiding lasers.

It didn't take long as the giant flock of at least a dozen Grim were quickly torn down to size by the swarm of green projectiles.

The boy avoided a creature that jumped at him by narrowly jumping to the side.

Thanks to his light metal piece of armor over his chest, the claw slash didn't have much of a lasting damage from the Beowulf who received a point-blank scattershot to his chest, tossing him back like a ragdoll.

Taking a quick rush back, the boy evaded the swarm of the angry demons who tore some of his green turrets to shreds.

Quickly, he dropped two small cylinder objects behind his feet. Then quickly, rushing behind a wall, and blasting away another Beowolf that tried jumping him from inside a building, but only got thrown back by the powerful shot.

"Lindana."

 ***On it.** the small floating ball glew for a second too long as the two small objects detonated under the horde's feet, sealing a good part of their first row in ice.

 ***Don't give them a cold shoulder yet, sir.** Lindana beeped, taking a 'look' back at him with her green glass eye.

Her metal plates were really shiny this day.

He struck a third switch, taking away from cover and rolling to the street with his gun up and loaded.

His other hand tore another small box from his belt, throwing a bunch of them around the yellow dusty ground and under the thick clouds that covered them.

The turrets set up from inside the dust.

Pressing a button on his armored gauntlet, a small bubble shield created itself in waves of energy around his very being.

He laughed like a madman, pumping his shotgun " _Ho-ho-ha-ha-HA!_ " before pointing it at the breaking wall of ice that the Grim were starting to climb over.

 ***Oh boy.** the small AI orb hurried behind its creator's back "Taste some SCIENCE!"

And kaboom!

The shields flared up, holding up for approximately two seconds before going away into the wind.

The armor and skin got torn off the boy's body in mere few painful seconds.

…

 **:** _X12mo12g87hdh1en1e_ **:**

/| **S** _ **I** _ **M** _ **U** _ **L** _ **A** _ **T** _ **I** _ **O** _ **N** -:- **E** _ **N** _ **D** |\

 **:** _Un907ih0f9039830kfs1_ **:**

Big letters darted over the screen as the moss haired boy took off a big bucket-like helmet off his head with a hungry smirk.

"That was BRILLIANT!" his eyes glimmered in sense of fulfillment as a small silver ball of green lights floated from his by his chair, turning its green shining eye for 180 degrees

…

 ***That's certainly one way of describing it.**


	2. Blue Trailer

DISCLAIMER: the following text is not meant to be taken seriously, I do not own the original.

 ** _A.N: For those who have read and are still interested in my Naruto: The Unsung Heroes fanfic, know that I'm currently facing problems with my Word... Ok, scrap that._**

 ** _Here's a quick warning to everyone reading this: WINDOWS 10 IS SHIT! Its been fucking with my computer for months now and it takes me up to over a week to write even the shortest chapter. Also, I have some other problems like working in a hotel, and believe me, that I really don't have much free time to write. ( I'm a trainee :D )_**

 ** _I have a laptop, but my dad took it for himself, so... Yeah._**

 ** _Don't worry. I'm hoping to post the next chapter for that fanfic by the end of the next week._**

 ** _A special thanks to_** alucard deathsinger _**for his OC submission.**_

* * *

 **Blue Trailer**

* * *

 **Blut Volmond**

* * *

Theme:"I'm my own master now"

A young girl was being dragged off by members of a local bandit association. There was blood splattered over their clothes and masked as the man dragged the girl along.

Her hands bound in cuffs with a shock collar around her neck. She kicked and squirmed before actually kicking a rugish member in the leg. He looked at her and growled.

"You _little_ brat YOU _REALLY_ -" The man tried to finish before his companion put his hand over his shoulder with a grin.

"No brother we don't damage goods. But if this child wants to act like a wild animal then lets put her with an animal." The pair laughed with the previous man nudging the woman's shoulder with a huge laugh.

"Great thinking sister we've starved him for weeks now think he might actually eat her." The inhuman laughed as the girl screamed and kicked. Tears fell freely from her eyes as they approached the cages.

They were filled with children and young teens like her but the pair walked past it before stopping at a cage too dark for the girl to see what was inside.

"What are you doing I'll behave I promise please don't, don't send me in there." The girl begged before the cell door was flipped open and she was thrown into her hands still cuffed.

"Oh, mutt! Over here! We got you a new plaything" The man yelled but got no response. "I _SAID_ 'MUTT GET OVER HERE'!" He yelled as he clicked a switch in his pocket shocking the girl and all of a sudden there was a loud thud at the end of the cage.

The girl could barely make out the shape of a boy.

The man tried to flip the switch before the woman stopped him. "Oh my dear, if you wish so, you may feast at last."

The woman teased as she held the key well within the cage. A low growl could be heard at the back of the cage as a boy came charging towards her as he grasped her throat over the collar. The woman laughed "I'm in a good mood right now, child. So if you eat it all…" She jingled the keys in front of his as the girl looked at him with pleading eyes.

The rips and burns on his rags danced on the small flood of wind.

"Please don't" The girl begged with a teary voice as the two bandits howled and laughed as the slim boy his head off the ground and took a narrow glance at them.

Eyes hungry for blood.

…

Less than an hour later.

Blood dripped from a clenched fist.

But it dropped in the wrong way.

Pouring back into an obviously large open slash wound that was slowly starting to close.

…

There was one man left standing amongst the carnage of blood and gore, he looked tired and cut in many places, breathing heavily…

The bodies of the two offenders lay there, one headless, the other without the arm and neck.

…

As the blood slowly crawled up and down his arms, a shape, part by part, formed in his hands.

It was a very distinct curved blade.

The big man finally approached, in his hands a chainsaw blade twice the size it's wielder's body.

He swung that chainsaw with great efficiency. The boy painted, raising the blade up in defense, trying to block the ferocious assault, but it snapped like toothpicks under the weight slashing into his chest opening another rip in the fabric of his skin.

The boy pushed his tired body onwards.

The blood tired to retreat back into the body. But it was slow.

And this was a large slash marked across his tattered chest.

Out as he continued to fight trying to stay close to avoid the large blade as the man swung it skillfully. The giant man took the boy by surprise by striking him with the pommel of the blade winding the boy before bringing it up and then down onto the boy.

The young man had looked up to see the blade coming at him so he held his arm up, a quick burst of his own blood poured into it, drying fast and making another small blade only to block this unstoppable assault.

The force struck him on his knees, teeth clenched.

But the blades didn't brake.

More and more of his own supply of red dashed around the starved body in rings like halos of aura.

He quickly took the moment to charge forward slipping past the large chainsaw, as the constant supply redirected it's tired of cutting through the dark blade.

Another one quickly splashed into his other arm, as he backhanded it into the fat giant's side, making him roar in agony and lose the pushing force on his weapon.

The boy took the chance jumped grabbing his now slightly cracked weapon, dissipating it in a wave of blood that gushed around like a water balloon, and right into the large man's face.

The Chainsaw was risen up high over his head with a ballistic roar of anger and pure brute rage as the blinded large man went for an upheld swing, thinking to finish it with one finish slash.

He made a stupid mistake.

In a swift move of his arm, the hooked blade tore from the man's impaled side across his fat belly like pork. Not that he had enough time to scream out in his final breath as it was quickly taken away, as the blade that had previously erupted in a burst of blood had suddenly reformed with its place found in the bridge of his nose.

And with a chain attached to the end of it, the small boy pulled down with force abnormal for someone of his size.

Raising a dust cloud as the body two and a quarter his size fell down against the floor with a big bang.

* * *

"So this was the witness report" General Ironwood claimed as he looked at his subordinate "This is a carnage…" he mumbled to his chin.

"Yes, sir!" The woman answered she had a white suit with her white hair tied back into a bun "We have located and quickly detained the major suspect with little to no resistance."

"Bring him to me… I think I might have an idea for this child." Ironwood finished as a picture of the said boy and his red hair was slapped on the table and left to the dark to consume it.


	3. Gray Trailer

_**A.N: Main 4 are done. Looking for support OCs (Teacher/ Bad guy / Other Teams)**_

* * *

 **Gray Trailer**

* * *

 **Samuel Steele**

* * *

Enter theme: Track 01 - Inner Light

With buzzes of electricity, a hexagonal room buzzes with poor lights.

Hot steam is running loose from the old broken pipe on top the ceiling, hissing with noise.

With a low buzz, the middle platform of the room slowly starts to descend.

What once was white steel split in half, just about half way down to the floor.

You can hardly hear powerful amounts of energy trying to break through the mighty steel walls. In small round holes in the wall, bright blue light tires to shine into the old room as much as it can.

With a bang one more hole opens up in the steel, flashing orange! Then quick, another! And two more, letting even bluer flashing light pour through the holes.

In a quick burst of flashes, ten more holes are broken up in the wall, ending the ruckuss and any other sound than the old steeming pipe and the lax rotations of the generators almost but non.

…

Suddenly, a crack in the wall of steel forms, expanding to the sides and letting the pale light pour across the room in waves.

A shadow covered in light stood in the middle of the opening doorframe as the big figure kept itself straight. Something was held in the man's arms… A weapon.

Wordlessly, the figure stepped forwards breaking the hide of the shadows and stepping in, into the room with his bare feet, clenched in red liquids taking a feel for the cold metal floor.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward, only holding down for one his shoulder as a wound had been pierced into it.

A painful grunt escapes the large man as his feet made their way forwards, stepping into a pair of two silver colored boots that rose from the ground in the middle of the room. Just lowering his head into the previously lowered platform, the soldier threw the weapon away with his injured arm, letting the other fall limp by the body.

The small breaing computer flashed with blue letters: '- ACTIVE -'

Another grunt escaped the man's mouth as the platform around his head griped tight, rising a pair of circular rings from under the circuled center of the room.

A big black tattoo run across his back from the neck to the lower waist in the shape of an iron fist.

As his breaths lower and the rings start to rotate so fast they were bearly even able to be seen.

Metal pieces suddenly started to appear and quickly get sucked up into the young man's body like magnets.

Quick, they covered his entire body like a second layer of skin.

The blocky weapon was quick to float straight into his hand, recoiling only but a small amount.

Voices and angry shouts rang out past the open gates and down the bright corridors.

His round face frowned under the bright light, just before the visor closed right on his face, reflecting the five different armored men who rushed into the room, weapons raised at the tall figure.

As his arm raised, the two of the soldiers flinched n fear and backed a step back while one of the other three reacted by stiffly pointing his gun up and ready.

You could almost hear a smirk rise under the helmet.

" _Let's try this again_ **.** "


	4. Black Trailer

DISCLAIMER: the following text is not meant to be taken seriously, I do not own the original.

* * *

 **Black Trailer**

* * *

 **Noir Blanc**

* * *

Insert Theme: _Miami Showdown_

The night was dark, the moon and street lamps the only sources of light.

…

A figure walked through the darkness of many shadows.

Like a ghost, the black cloak floated only mear inches from the cold concrete slabs that made the soggy floor of the sad and depressing streets.

No sounds were made as the figure dashed like a wind in between lights and small glass windows and the closed shops inside them.

It was a lovely night.

…

Or that was what it just seemed.

Sounds of clashes and gunshots rang out, disturbing the long spoken sounds of silence.

" _Hush, hush..._ " a sweet and smooth voice spoke in echo as the dark shadow continued gliding down its way "Hush, hush…"

The shadow's senseless mumbles quietened down just enough so for the sound to break against the many building walls and falls fair.

A marked car rode at full speeds from down the road, as the police sirens on it roared in fury.

But just as it soared past the cloaked man.

…

He had disappeared.

…

High above, on a rooftop, a kitty yawned into the night sky.

It licked its paws, as the tiny legs stretched out tired from the long day of climbing and running for mice and rats that lived in this abandoned parts of the city in smaller colonies.

A black cloak flew past the small cat, covering it in its shadows.

" _Hush, hush_." Not even a trace of the black feline or it's golden eyes was left to the wind.

She just… vanished without a trace as the tall shadow simply continued to slide towards the closest roof installed windows.

One was halfway open.

The owner probably wanted to leave some fresh air for herself during the night and for the morning.

A decent choice, I guess. It is kinda hot outside.

The hooded figure stopped right in front of the open window, a white mask easily distinguishes itself over his face as the moon glew of it.

With a meagre effort, the window had been tossed to the side like nothing, smashing against the same ground of the building top into bunches of pieces and shards of glass.

"Ah!" In the wake of the night, a messy haired woman jumped up in her bed.

Her breaths heavy and nervous "Shit." Quickly she pulled the bed's sheath off her waist, quickly aiming with her hands on to the nightstand sitting by her bed pillow. It took her about a couple of moments of frantic searching before she actually found the switch in the blackness of the night and lit the room with a bright light that made her eyes squint.

Sliding off the two-person bed, she went to her knees, looking under the big bed and pulled out a wooden baseball bat by sticking her hand in there and pulling it out with.

Her hands trembled slightly as she got back up on her bare feet and on the cheap colourful rug underneath them.

"Ok…" the bat rose up beside her shoulder as her knuckles gripped it.

The apartment was actually quite large for a part of the city such as this.

"No... No... No…"

She took steps forward, watching her step carefully. The door to her bedroom were open, letting the cold wind flow in, sending chills down her spine.

As she slightly shivered, a pair of catlike ears rose from her hair.

A Faunus.

Her shoulder pressed forward, pushing the wooden door away from her path, as her hand went to the wall, scanning it for the switch.

The door lead to her kitchen and dining room.

And so she found it empty…

No one was in the kitchen- "Ugh…" her eyes did a slight cringing reaction as she continued to walk up to her wooden cooking table clammed into the white walls next to it.

"Hello? Anyone here?"

She received no response.

She went around it, bat still high raised as her head spun around every moment.

That smell…

She stepped into something "What the?" it felt liquid on her skin, if not a bit poking.

Her face fell as she looked down, the baseball bat slowly lowering down to the waist. Her eyes widened as the floorboards underneath her were covered in a red paste…

 _Blood_.

"Screaming hell!" she gasped, taking a step back away

But as she got farther away she noticed something else other than a red ball of digested mush. Skin. Ribs breaking through the meet and cracking in some places… And a bronze name tag she knew very too well…

"Mr Cuddles…" Her eyes blinked as she muted slowly in fear.

Something broke.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" she swung wildly, panicking and swiping some tools of the small wooden bar beside her like crazy "S-show yourself!"

The room was lightened with the glow of electric energy

But sounds… There was little to none.

The only one was the creepy sound of winds flapped through the open hole in the apartment's roof. The curtains were only slightly disturbed.

"W-who's there!?"

But the woman was screaming into nothing as all but her remained calm.

The flow of wind wavered a little so the curtains could no longer be pushed away.

Then the blood in her veins froze.

" _Hush, hush…_ " a voice crept up behind her and breathed down on her shivering neck.

"AAH!" She swung around widely hitting a wall instead of a person.

Was he mocking her? This was creepy, man!

It better not be her stupid ex! Because if he's here just to mess with dear old Nuit … Uhhhh!

She took a step back as her big ears tried to find even the slightest sound of ANYTHING!

" _Little kitty, kitty little hush, hush…_ " her hands trembled from the backlash of the kinetic energy.

Something was creeping right over her head, in shadow and silence too much for her to even notice with her sensitive cat ears.

The lights went out.

" _Jaune_! You bastard! IM GONNA KILL YOU!" she screamed.

A silent moment passed.

Nothing answered for a good a good minute or two.

" _N-no… I no Jone.._." she wanted to cry as the voice echoed " _On-only m-m-me.._."

It was that bastard! It's him! It HAS to be him! A-and she's going to rip the skin of his stupid ass and sew it on to his face!

" _M-me…_ " four red eyes opened " _Make y-yum you._.."

She took a fearful step back "GET AWAY FROM ME!" only for her eyes to rear around in shock as hands slapped against something sticky.

Something that surely wasn't previously there.

The red eyes narrowed for just a moment as the wind howled once more.

A tear came down the woman's eye.

"AAAAAGH-!"

The curtains danced freely on the wind that tried to cover the agonizing scream as a red liquid splashed against them.

…

The night was quiet. Howls of wolves, the only sources of sound.

…

Later in the night.

A pair of stained black boots stepped into the blood.

It was still wet as the red splashed under the steps lightly, spreading to the sides and rubbing its angry colour against the black leather.

Shards of glass and red chunks floated in place.

/ **Sigh…** / the sigh echoed silently through the room as the black pair of boots quivered tiredly.

In a disapproving head shake that you could feel from down below the coated feminine figure.

The tight legs bent down, slowly but surely letting themselves get wet by the flowing lake of blood.

The room was dark as a gloved hand pressed downwards and into the blood just about over the right knee of her previously tight black pair of pants.

The long sleeve's top ended up soaking just a tad bit.

There was a lot of blood.

The hand started to move around, inside, passing the floor under with her palm.

Some white spikes rose from the big pool of blood and mush here and there.

 _Strange…_

The hand suddenly stopped itself in one particular place, somewhere in the middle of the pool.

The red dripped of the black as the glove was pulled out.

…

Silence ensued, as, from the blood, a small silver amulet was taken out as it clung on a string that tied itself around the slim fingers.

N _ui#_

/ **Sorry mom...** / the voice echoed like it echoes throughout the darkroom painted red.

Slowly but surely it became more and more clear that there was a human shape in the middle of all this gore.

/ _None of this was your fault._ / one lavender eye stared at the small piece of jewellery with a look that didn't bring comfort.

/ **I'll kill the bastard and avenge you.** / she slowly stood up letting the shadow hide her features.

…

 _Two red eyes opened in the dark over her back._

…

/ **That's a detective's promise.** /


	5. Every story has a start

DISCLAIMER: the following text is not meant to be taken seriously, I do not own the original.

 ** _A.N: I loved the finals of WC this year. Too bad my guys lost. If we won, miss president would have (probably) installed a new holiday. :/_**

 ** _Oh well._**

 **BANS**

 **Every story has a start**

 _ **The Reaper Arc**_

: _Sound Track_ : Kim Tamara - Freedom

A strong horn roared throughout the clear blue skies and across the blue ocean below.

The seagulls circled around the big ship as it crushed against the strong waves of the sea and sliced through them like a hot knife through butter.

Fishies jumped up and out of the long big blue, instantly diving straight back into the depths and disappearing from the naked eye to see.

Another horn roared off, scaring off some more birds to one of the nearby smaller islands covered in dense forests full of many different types of flora and fauna.

The ship itself was not one of the bigger ones but still remained a decent enough size, carrying at least a few hundred people by the looks from outside.

The floor of the deck was nice and clean, covered in dark brown wooden planks which had small distances in between each other just enough to stop traction and-

"Attention passengers." A voice called out in a disinterested manner from many pairs of sound enhancers which could be found on varying locations all over the ship's outside and insides.

The sounds of children running across the deck and playing in the pools as their older halves sat by the few wooden tables drinking lattes, cappuccino, beer, wine and eating some refreshing treats that they have from inside their cabins.

One man was reading a black covered book with a big white, wide font placed all over them as his bare toes wiggled freely under the hot sun's shine.

Two kids kicked a simple many coloured ball with their feet right next to the splashing pool and on the potentially dangerous wet floor.

Inside the pool, in the middle where stood, a nice round jacuzzi divided away from the rest of the water by a small wall that rose just about to the water level or a millimetre moreover.

It was cramped up with old people and one blond chick who didn't look particularly comfy besides a bunch of old farts constantly pushing her left and right and complaining on all sides like they had to worry much of any problems. But the butt rubbing features were too much to ignore for a simple 'surrounded by old people' case. Soo she looked like she was enduring.

There was a bunch of shadows to go by along the deck even as the sun was so high up, in this hot midday situation.

At his wheel, the short captain safely navigated by his men in the big ship's command centre.

The winds were gentle and the sea was doable.

A fine day indeed.

That were certainly also the thoughts of a single young man.

He was not too large of a teen. Built fairly regularly with a few small bumps on his white pulled up shirt piled with some muscle. Otherwise, the figure seemed just small and close to being called thin.

The boy rubbed his neck unknowingly. His hands bearly hid a sharp red line that ran horizontally from down to above over the pale skin around the old scar.

A subconscious action.

"The vessel will be approaching Vale's port in just under an hour." The voice of the captain boomed right over the boy's clean head as he simply let his body silently relax.

His eyes closed resting and enjoying the light moving of the ship over the many strong waves.

The light breeze soothed him nicely.

'It's not always you get to enjoy a peaceful day like this.' The boy's mind wondered as the two kids ran behind his back smiling and laughing. Now they were running left, now right, kicking the colourful ball around with their feet, dribbling and shooting it randomly at will.

With a heavy breath, his hand rose to hold the head in support.

Suddenly the beach ball blasted right into the back of his head and startling him.

Youch!

He bit his tongue. Some small trace of blood gushed out as the startled wide-eyed young man without a cry.

"Sorry mister!" one of the boys grabbed it in the air. A squirt with blond hair and a pair of cute little freckles on his cheek. He coughed it with both his hands as it bounced straight back at him, grinning a big toothy smile that could shatter ice.

Even do he was in a world of pain the teen, fighting back a small tear, nodded his head and rose a thumb up to the little squirt who grinned even more.

He vibrated a little, keeping his mouth closed and the kid ran off like nothing happened.

"He, he!" the two small guys were quick to get back to business.

The kids disappeared behind the corner just as the teen grabbed his mouth while screaming inside 'Ow, ow, ow, ow!' that and some random curse words like 'Pick', 'Damn', 'Scheisse' and… ok. Those might not have been some especially strong curse words for a guy in his latter-middle 10-s's…s, s, s, sssssssssssssss.

Is 10-s even a word?

I don't know. But it's tense to think about it. (Get it?)

Shaking his head, the ten picked up his lazy butt away of the guardrails, starting to walk on the big wooden deck just where the two boys have just ran past and assaulted(not really) him, that was the front part of the ship.

There was a lot of people here. 100 at most, 50 at the least. Most of their activities only including not moving at all and taking in the cruise for rest and relaxation.

Some people, on the other hand, took nice strolls round the ships outskirts, enjoying the view and the salt in the air.

I guess he planned to join them.

Staying in one place seemed to be dangerous per in his peace-filled status quo and personal health at best.

'I just can't seem to catch a break.' He scratched the back of his head.

If his memory served him well enough, there should be a small bar table somewhere around here.

The teen took a right turn through the overly tall doorframe, which was decorated just like every other thing around this place. Rich and fancy.

Just as he liked it.

What's the point of having a mountain of gold if you never use it anyways? People take too much pessimism into their lives without even really experiencing anything close to what true agony and devastation of the soul are.

So yeah.

The doorway wasn't really that crowded, four people stood on each side of the gold laced door in two groups.

He pushed past them, or rather simply walked in between and into the short corridor.

There was much more people here. To the right was a buffet table with a lot of glasses of quality champagne of Valeish special brand and dry white wine from the same green lush of yards and fields. Vale usually had the best of food quality and imports of the four kingdoms.

It didn't hurt that most people here were of Valish decent of origin.

You easily tell them with their trimmed chins, unlike their northern Atlas associates who more often than not fancied themselves at least a small fancy moustache or a timid goatee. Eather that or long hair for some of the younger generations.

Ugh… Hippies.

Then, of course, there were the Vacuans… Vacuoans?... Vacui? Eh, it's not really that important.

What IS important is that they're black.

Dark skinned I mean. Not as in- You get what I mean.

Most of them wear ether orangish and golden colours which are often a bit too long. Like long-coats, just made of delicate materials for a bunch of rich-folk. You might say that they are not particularly suited for this sort of hot and dry summer climate.

But for these guys this place must be like Atlas is to normal people. Since they live in a desert and stuff.

Then there was the least present numbering nationality. The Mistrali.

They are actually very hard to spot in between the Valesmen if looking from their backs. Maybe by their heights only.

But when the faces are put one next to the other, the pure amount of makeup put on the Mistrali faces could probably buy a smaller village enough ammunition and food rations to survive for the entire winter.

The smell of salt was replaced by the smell of alcohol and different weeds a few of the people were putting in their pipes and lighting them up like.

"Bart, my boy!" Dad.

A middle-aged blond man waved at me from a larger group of at least ten people all huddled up around buffet table filled with sweets and pastries.

They chuckled, they laughed, they wasted time and put as many of the freshly baked food into their gaping mouth holes.

Also, the name isn't Bart.

The teen smiled somewhat, slowing down his step to politely wave back. Which may or may not have caused a slight tinge on the back of his skull.

He approached, not hurrying up his step and leaving a slightly awkward pause in between the old man's call and him reaching close enough for him to get a hand tossed over and placed on his shoulder.

The other old men were silent just as well. Most of them having at least one bushy hairpiece on their faces. Well, all but one younger Valesman with green hair.

"Gentlemen! Meet my son." He boldly stated "My very own pride and joy."

"Oh, my." The green haired man spoke, grabbing his chin thoughtfully as an eyebrow raised over his chocolate eye "Red hair." He mused "Must be quite a rare trait up there in the north."

The father looked down at the teen, who stood just on the level under his shoulder and put a hand back to himself, nodding offhandedly "Right." He looks away "My mother's genes." Some of the men blinked, making him hastily add "She was born in Vacuo." The old men nodded in a few mumbles.

The father grabbed a glass and poured some wine on his lips "Anyways. My young Bart here wishes to honour us all name by continuing the family name." He rose the glass to a toast.

"So we've heard, Papier." A greying old man sighed, quietly hiding it "Him and that little girl of yours."

The green man hid his eyes behind the pair of glasses "Indeed." He nodded. By the looks of it, he was probably the youngest of the entire group "But back to the topic."

Most men rose their wine filled glasses in agreement.

The bushy haired greying moustache man stepped up to talk "Gentlemen. As I'm sure you all remember-" "Listen closely to what you hear." Papier's whisper run through Blut's ear even do he didn't bend down to his level or turn to face him.

"-I have recently received a call from my inside man in the Vale and am most unhappy to announce the most troubling news. Another of our benefactors has yet again been found murdered in their own home." The old man didn't halt as he spoke with slight amusement.

One of the younger men pulled out his bloody red tissue from the tuxedo pocket to wipe around the edges of the glass "Again?" he noted, making it sound like if he had asked instead.

"Outrage!" one man angrily broke a calm demeanour "Barbarism!" "Useless peasants…" making another two slightly younger males scowl with him and curse respectively.

The green haired slick young man stayed still graceful as he was the entirety of his life "Yes…" all do annoy at the quick and over the top outbursts from just next to his ear, he only simply shook his half-filled glass of red wine "But, let's try to keep this civil, James." He scolded the older man with his piercing brown gaze that made the much older man stutter… slightly.

Do one of the bit younger men, one with brown hair huffed in annoyance "Civility is to good for those trash, Thresh." He put the red handkerchief back into its pocket where it longed outside, being easily noticed on the contrasted black suit over a white shirt.

The slim man ruffed through his greasy green hair and down to his neck "What needs to happen is for us to take immediate action." Ignoring the man should prove the most appropriate action.

The teen. Bluthaven. Blinked at the man from the sidelines beneath his father's shoulders.

"Locate the threat…" he raised his glass up to the level of his nose "Find it's source,-"

That guy sure was a creeper, that's for sure.

A reflection lifted of the wine as a small, dark red drop managed to escape the round prison "Rip out the heart and leave it to rot!" Mr Papier stated, cutting his college off before he had a chance to slowly explain as he was about to.

This simply made the green man let out a small, but bearly noticeable scowling action befall his clear face for but a tiny moment as he got cut off.

His hand lowered to lighten the hold of the snow-white collar pressing on his neck.

"That is one way of putting it, yes."

"Just as I thought." A retort from the older gentleman grunted in smug aspiration "And I did." He added quickly "This will prove too costly too quickly."

He flicked his moustache "I say we do nothing. These last four were but petite coincidences."

The greying old man raised his hand.

"Yes, Lord Nortska?" Papier asked, "Do you need to put your input on my theory."

"Uh, yes." The old man coughed, letting his empty crystal glass down on to the table right next to the perfectly organized fourth row of empty same glasses waiting to be used "Of course, lad." Another cough into his closed fist as he turned towards the slick-haired Mr Thresh "I must apologize, Mr Papier, but I see more logical sense to follow in Lord Thresh. This... This endeavour- This is no coincidence, I can assure you." The old man Nortska shook his head.

"That still does not excuse your wrongness." The younger of the two noted smugly.

On the sidelines, Bluthaven merely observed the conversation. At this moment he could not stop but not feel like a fifth wheel. Guess that's what the other less important men at the table felt all the time when around these three,

Just like the guy from a minute ago who had a sudden outburst for no Oum damn reason and straight out in the blue.

Young age and loud noises combined, by his experience of human behaviour are often a result of shows of dominance, or aspirations of shows of dominance amongst the specimen. Most oftenly amongst males. While the female counterparts oftenly resort to segregation from the main group which can oftenly lead to unwanted attention and provocation which can have unforeseen consequences, depending on the individual.

'Well… Eather that or I have too much time on my hands.' Ok. The second was more than likely one to be picked in here.

"Now on to the second issue." The old grey Lord Nortska spoke, fixing his monocle just to read a single yellowish piece of paper handed to him by a butler/servant boy who came from behind his back "Thank you, Gerrard."

He coughed loudly, attracting attention to himself even more if he didn't have it before "The loan we had put into the McFrick Development and Research company has yet to be paid." He mused as a series of grumbles erupted from around the group's members.

"Three new White Fang protests occurred. Two of them in Atlas and one in Mistral." He continued "All three were resolved peacefully with the organisers being apprehended in one occasion in Atlas city square." He nodded to himself and so did the other ones who followed.

Well… This was getting dull pretty quick.

The teen couldn't do anything but roll his eyes.

Why did I even take the front entrance? It's full of boring old people. Ugh...

Something vibrated in his pants.

"-Oh, well. I have a superior- Turn that down." Papier harshly growled, turning back to his men. Thresh was the only one who spared a glance at him "Oh, the manners of that boy." But quickly retracted as Papier continued his self-crafted speech "Where was I?-Oh! Of course. –Superior proposition-"

Bluthaven flicked his tongue out and pulled out the small device from his shallow pocket.

This device is called a 'Scroll'. It's a long distance highly efficient communications device. It's easily portable and can be stored in the pocket of your pants and or jacket.

Scrolls, while highly useful are almost, as many good things in life, surprise, surprise, expensive. One of this babies can cost you up to at least 1 or more thousands of Lien. You won't be seeing it on anyone short of a hunter or a higher paid individual like a lawyer, capitalist industrial tycoon, a mayor… Uh. So yeah. You get the point.

Rich be rich. You poor son of a…

Bluthaven's scroll had one Courier Blink message in the archives as he looked into it.

After the signal is sent away in a heat of 'Nano-dust signalers' (also knows as 'transmission waves') it bounces off the Cross Continental Transmit System, or CCTS for short towards one of the three others built in the capitals of the respective kingdoms and on to where ever the signal is being hailed from.

S: Where are you?

Bluthaven couldn't but to poke his eyebrow up.

What a stupid question.

He typed.

B: Dad.

The satisfying popping sound it makes never gets old.

While waiting for a reply, the teen glanced up but only to quickly turn his eyes away as quickly as humanly possible. That creep Thresh was staring at him again. Sheesh.

The silent vibration of the small device regained his attention.

S: Ass licker.

'You are simply angry cuz im-' He went to reply, but another message reached him just before he could finish.

S: Think I know where you're up… Be there in a sec.

"If we lower the investment focus off of the southern front by 34%, we could employ the Ridley institution on the article 5 for a trial run of at least 15% in general funds. If they are to prove subordinate, of course. We might have an expansion with the additional 12% on the new Atlas booking project. That is if we don't take away the tariff affairs, which I'm completely sure our golden friends will take care of with no delay." Lord Thresh noted while reading off a paper.

The sun broke off from his glasses and hid his chocolate brown eyes as he did.

Only men to speak, actually, were him, Papier and Lord Nordiska. Sure there were occasional grunts and heartful comments off of a youngster or two who are yet to learn their place, but mostly speaking they only spoke when asked upon directly.

They probably had nothing better to do.

A sudden message again popped on the scroll and Bluthaven again opened it.

S: Soooo… Where are you again?

The teen smiled lightly as he typed with both his hands.

B: Just come to the open area

He waited as the three small dots wiggled around the screen.

S: We're on a cruise ship.

The teen could not but to roll his eyes.

B: :P

S: I'm coming to the LZ.

Bluthaven smiled, chuckling on the inside, glancing at the adults again. This time Thresh wasn't staring at him.

Good.

Some more people were coming in from the outside and passing by.

And oh boy, were they rude.

Frick!

One guy just simply passed me and like an uncultured Vacant pushed his way past…

He'd grunt at the rude bastard, but young Bluthaven was to already focused on catching the scroll that had been knocked out of his hands.

In a second's notice, his two footsies tangled up, left boot blocking the right one leading to you already know what 'Crap!'

Bum, tress, and express, he landed elbows and caught the small roundish personalized device like if he was giving an offering to the gods. His face was dug into the red carpet as he didn't take any will to move it for a second or two.

'Oh, man…That was close.' He could sigh in relief as someone in a blue tux with orange tight pants (I mean seriously?) stepped right on his spine and proceeded to walk away without a care in the world other than the grossly underdressed (on the booby part) slutty wife of his.

Probably a wife.

Probably.

Doesn't matter, since he left a nice little-stained footprint right by the middle of the red, formal jacket.

The teen rose to his knees, groaning in annoyance 'Asshat…' his eyes slipped a bit far to the left. Past all the commotion that was happening in front of him, the one behind stopped to be awkwardly staring at him.

Of course, in the panic the boy jumped up on his feet, dusting himself off as well as you could yourself.

One of those guys, you know, the ones that were quick to explode in senseless screaming and being triggered by mear notion of trouble "Disgrace." They started to speak loudly enough, again.

Bulthaven gulped, straightening himself up in an instant.

And again, they will have to heed their words away from their big mouths as father Papier turned to them with an undertone scowl that made them (even do they tried looking non-intimidated) whimper back into line

Luckily for him, as Papier lightning quickly shot his head at where Bluthaven used to be, alas, he was already gone.

Sigh… "Later Mr Falten, later." He grumbled to himself while squeezing the skin on his forehead to make the pain stop.

Lord Thresh rose an eyebrow in amusement as their older counterpart never stopped to look away from his very important reports coming from all sides of the Remnant's companies, civil services and private investments gone good, bad or worse. By their standards, of course.

Children did little to interest him in times like these, unlike the younger colleague. That man was green to this business both in name and look.

His hair is green after all, heh, he.

The old man suppressed a chuckle from inside the gut.

Not that he didn't do that very often.

Suppressing the gut I mean.

And this lost chuckle…

…

It didn't feel right.

 _ **A.N: Wopsie Dasie! That's the first chapter done. I don't know, but I feel like I should make them longer. Yes or no?**_


	6. Every story has a reason

DISCLAIMER: the following text is not meant to be taken seriously, I do not own the original.

 _ **A.N: Second OC finds it's way into the story's timeline by the end of this chapter.**_

 _ **If you're wondering what that soundtrack business below the title is; well it's basically for fun (and a representation of this Volume as a whole).**_

 **BANS**

 **Every story has a reason**

 _ **The Reaper Arc**_

 _: Sound Track: Kim Tamara – Freedom_

It was painfully stupid...

...

So... You know. I don't have to explain it to you.

Saves me time and fortune.

…

…

…

Ok. You got me.

I was kidding.

Ha.

Ha.

Ha…

Trying to break a way through hordes, no. **Grimhordes** of pulsating waves of tux wearing fine-men and beautifully dressed women, in many silk dresses, goldified with tapes and buttons unzipped on just the right places to say: 'One for the body, two for the show, three to the enjoyment and four to go'.

Roses and tulips seemed to be an often occurrence amongst the hair of Vale's court of ladies and damsels as they would call themselves.

Most of these people were still very backward thinking, never even once letting go of the stashing amounts of powers promised to the common folk during the Great War.

There are these discriminatory and plain stupid rules that many of them employed on trips such as this.

Like:

No Faunus allowed anywhere near their Lord only enjoyment.

Dishes must be served in a line opposite of the clock.

Don't appear in public looking less than very rich or you'll be thrown overboard (true story).

No pets.

And apparently, no Moon damned politeness!

Bluthaven, to put it simply, would most likely find his grave in such a big crowd like this. I mean, this is the third time this week he's been trampled.

Second today…

'I-I'm not gonna-Gh- Make-Gh- it…' from under an angry buffalo charge, only masked to look human. Most likely to confuse the hunters, two tattered hands jumped out, grabbing for the thick legs of a wooden decorative table.

And pulled.

It was a battle for life or death. There was no room for slacking.

The muscles under the red fabric tensed and pulled. And pulled. And pulled. The knuckles even turned red as in a small painfully sounding rhythms progress was being made.

Soon, but surely his mess of a head was free to gasp for air. Spirit still being put under the iron heels. Literally.

The usually clean red piece of heir atop the boy's head was now a complete mess.

He was close 'So… Close…' Too close.

Just a little bit more, he pulled, and he would be free of… this. Whatever this unworthy position could be considered as.

It was just… Just so embarrassing.

A final feral growl escaped his mind's empty space as, both of his short hands pulled with all their power up against the thick legs of the serving table.

Ooh, and what a serving table that was.

Flambated whole piggy with a not so subtle red apple stashed into its mouth, with olives replacing its eyes... Alright, not touching those. Mo~ving on.

One big triple decker salty cake dish of its own with carrots on top, sprayed with olive oil. A black piece of Grimdust.

An old ingredient, formerly believed to be harvested of specific Grim's nostrils/insides, but later noted to be made of quickly stored dying Grim flesh body cells which have to be quickly stored under deep cold pressure.

That might sound disgusting to you, but you'd be surprised.

A bunch of candles for décor, flowers and hand sewed pamphlets and whatnot stuff you could imagine in a full o minute of thinking. At least I believe you are as imaginative.

Oh well. You know what they say. What comes up, must come down.

And o~h booy. Did it cum down. It came like a well-polished sausage in between two floppy buns. All to make some of that sweet, sweet yum-yum.

If he could scream and beg for forgiveness and help of whatever cruel being was watching right over his poor little sinning soul as it lit aflame.

Not literally of course.

Only the carpet caught fire.

As you may have already assumed, wax candles tipped with everything else, being pushed down by the giant fried porkchop and down on the floor only mere inches away from Bluthaven's squinting face.

'Ough!' the pig was much more heavy than it looked 'Damn it!' Heavy enough to cling the teen back to the floor for just a fraction of time before he could finally free himself of the commotion of humanity and polished designer boots.

'That's fine.' The boy guffed to himself 'That's fine.' He relaxed his shoulders in defeat 'Punishment is worse than this humiliation anyway.' He sighed 'At least the fire won't spread.'

Suddenly the fire exploded in flames of hell and fury.

'Riiiight…' he nodded calmly as the flame warmed his face with its hellish glow 'Flammable Grimdust.' He sighed lowering his head in shame. Sweat rolled off his forehead 'Of course.'

The boy's face grew red, almost so as his nice jacket/suit, in a fit of a moment while he exploded in anger, started to try to throw himself around like crazy and basically headbutted the pig right on the red apple 'AAAAHhh!' Hair fell over his eyes as he did and head dribbled with pain.

His shoulders rose and lowered like vibrators, and as such didn't do much 'Im not that weak Oum damn it!' he tried with one last thrust of his chest upwards 'In NOT that weak!'

That just failed miserably as before.

"Watch out!"

Look who just noticed.

"F-f-f-fire!"

H-h-h-how about some helping the guy stuck in the middle of the rising flames?! They already spread, pushed by the wind from the end of the corridor where the ship's frontal part cut through the waves.

"By the jove!"

'Someone, please help!' Bluthaven trashed himself left and right, desperately trying to escape the flame that has already started to lick besides his skin. He tried to scream from as deep as he could reach inside his throat and tried to let it all out 'HEEELP-'

"RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" a panicked rich, still fancy-shmancy sounding voice screeched out of the until now somewhat not panicking crowd.

And they went wild. (in a bad way)

The fire burned against the boy's shoulders as he never gave up struggling like mad 'Oum Blessed, Oum Blessed!' yet it had little effect. That pig must have a metal pole inside it on which they spun it over the fire.

Whichever idiot thought it was a good look to leave it over two flat pedestals should seriously get a slap over the face.

His head spun into overdrive as pain caused to his left shoulder started to drive reddish as the skin began to slightly turn aflame on its own.

In most fires, the biggest amount of casualties wasn't born to do to the fame which started it the first place, but by the smoke that was rising out of it on which normal non-huntsmen people could more than easily choke on in under a few seconds time.

Bluthaven had no such luxury as it was apparent.

His brain went into overdrive, and the boy's brown eyes followed suit, scanning left and right in flashes, looking for any way out.

The first thing he saw, was another table's leg. An all wooden fat piece of furniture.

The pair of brown eyes, shined by red flames went wide, and tried to stay so under the smoke and the hot air that was starting to suffocate on the teen's lounges. He quickly grabbed them, ignoring the burning pain and the screams of people who were trying o run left to save their belongings or right to find safety as soon as godly possible 'Come on! Come on!' he grabbed the one fat leg with both his fists.

It burned against his skin. His face desperately huffed out what good cold air it had been holding in between the two lounges.

This was the last chance he had.

His mind glanced moments back in the heat of the flame and black dust.

Why did he even get into this mess? All he wanted was t grab some raspberry pie!

...

Or was it chocolate pie?

...

Uhhhhhhhhhh...!

* * *

'Uuuuuh… ' he hid behind one very, very large man that 'It happened again.' covered him just right and moreover. It took a tense set of shoulders and a panicked and desperate mind for Bluthaven's attempts of hiding as the man continued to walk forwards.

Well, more like hop and plop like a big meatball on legs that lost its wheels.

The boy focused, perfectly copying the man's movements and staying completely shielded from the entire left podium.

Step with a left leg by the man, a step by the teen, a step with the right foot down, same for our man, his hands lifts, so does Bluthaven's, he suddenly stops, eyes twitching and makes a quick 180, Bluthaven panics and sticks behind his back like a leach. Even as people are starting to watch.

The cane the big man used to walk was risen up to the beak-like nose and he… Did he sniff it?-

'Ah!' the boy reacted, dodging right under the sudden all around swing that made the big man rotate in a whole circle around and around for two times at least and quickly taking a hiding spot on the other side of the older man.

"Who's there?!" some childish giggles sounded from a passing family with two little children, both holding hands of their parents who were quick to cover their eyes and rush them off. With the grace worthy of their position, of course "Show your self-fiend!"

"No one makes fun of me!" Eyes widening, the teen ducked under another blind attempt at assault or 'fighting back' against an 'assailant' if you would rather call it that "P-punk!"

He narrowly avoided the fifth swing the big man did repetitively. A big number of sweat drops were rolling off the large man's chubby cheeks at an alarming pace (already). He really didn't seem like he was meant to move that much without someone carrying-Let I rephrase that: -Without someone pulling on him with a pack of bulldozers.

A quick roll in between the big man's wide legs was enough to escape arms wide in self-satisfaction as he quickly hopped to his footsies, tapping the old man on the back two times before he quickly bolted away.

The filled man turned around, waving his polished stick over his shaved head spitting "Bugger! Insolence! Corrupt little thugs!" that 'thugs' he yelled was more similar sounding to a 'Corrupt little hugs'.

But, now that just sounds stupid.

Too many eyes were on him as he quickly snuck his way in between the guests' pants. All ninja like and similar mojo stuff.

Do if he were to be a lesser person he might have also found his way under to take a small peek at a couple of skirts as well.

But all men must have standards if you would prefer to call it that. Since… y' know.

He crawled for a second more before finally finding enough of free space for him to stand up on both his two healthy legs.

Jumping up, he dusted off his pants.

His eyes nodded in apology as a man in a black bowtie was slightly nudged to the side as the boy's shoulder collided with his crotch. Not that the older man made more than a slight grunt sparing Bluthaven only a quick annoyed glance before heading off to gods know where.

His mind wondered around as he nodded to himself.

The quickly rising crowd of people was obscuring his view thanks to the mass of bodies.

'Breakfast!' the most important meal of the day 'Darn it!' his fist clenched 'Well played ship…' eyes narrowed down the sounds of seagulls 'Well played…'

Or is it lunch? Kinda get the two mixed up sometimes… DON'T JUDGE ME!

'But I, the great LORD BloodCaller 62 shall reach my Holy destination and finish this test of time and space-uh-SPACE and TIME con-something-um.' The ship was clever, I tell you worthy travellers, but he was no match for the skills of the totally real and badass HUNTSMAN Lord of the Underworld, an awesome quest!

'Monologue time.' He nodded darkly.

Eyes squinting even harder as some people looked at him from the side with some worry.

It had truly been days since this great journey started. It all started back in the meagre village of Hellheim when his unrightfully ordered execution was about to commence.

He remembered the days that he had spent dripping on the cold floors of the black tower.

But then, he might as well consider himself lucky enough… For when the time of his was to be ended a GrimDRAGON had finally swooped in last moments, sadly the village was nothing but a pile of smouldering ashes and-and…and…

'What was I doing again?'

"Young Master-" A panicked yelp and a quick karate chop over his own back ensured that at least one tray of glasses was broken on this fine day "… Falten."

The man didn't make any more moves on his old face other than looking tired "Jolly good day, sir..." the Cup-Bearer/Butler/Cleaning lady, Bella Ivan Novak grumbled poorly. His greyish classic pants were soaking wet and the stench of alcohol.

The words came to the old man as the sun rises to a new day.

Of course he had done this over and over again. He was the head servant after all… Well, head servant in charge of the west wing.

The old man reached for the chest pocket that lay on his left breast, only lightly letting it's white head wiggle out for just a little while.

He grabbed it and opened it in his palm and put over the soaked crotch section with a light hum.

Sick bastard.

…

I love him.

A sheepish grin took Blut's face as it heats up. It really was hard not to grin or laugh silently as the slim man stared down at the teen patiently.

He blinked a time or few.

They both did.

When finally the younger man was the one to break the hold, pulling out his Scroll and types in fast.

B: We cool?

The older man blinked once, one bushy brow rising among his stiff features.

"It is quite alright, Young Master Falten."

The old man cleared his throat.

"Oh, yes. Before I do forget:" Bluthaven offered him one tissue with an apologetic smile. The old man took it without problems and stuffed it into his left pocket inside the fine piece of pants of his.

The butler nodded bearly enough to even be seen, and definitely not enough for the teen to recognise it "…Young Mistress, your sister, has requested your immediate presence…" he always made a pause before speaking.

It was weird. Like he was thinking up entire sentences and making sure he would not mispronounce them even in the slightest.

That kind of a man was Ivan.

"…Should I lead you towards your shared accommodations, Young Master?"

Ah, yes. A shared room. The fiend that every older brother, slash sister, has to face sooner than later.

Apparently being the first male in line to the Lord Governor of the Council of Security and Defense of Atlas wasn't enough to warrant me a separate room from the small ball of practicality that is mine sister.

I guess not everyone can be a Schnee. But one would expect that being rich would bring in it's own perks, like having ten sets of toilets so I NEVER have to take a long-ass walk up from my own room to the closet at the end of the hall.

And let me tell you. Tis a long-butt hallway.

It gets extreamly annoying to keep it all in especially when playing a game.

I just want to play the Red Dawn: Asimulation DAD!

It cant be pasued DAD! It's online! Who ever heard of an online game being paused.

(Add to that that I have some pee-pee runs every few hours or so witch take at least 10 minutes just to run from one side of the hall and back.

I mean come on. We're kinda important here.

I mean it's not like there are any Faunus stalking us again. Those suckers got their butts totally WHOOPED by the super cool walker thingy Woodsy put in around the mansion.

The big thing was kinda hard to forget. A literal walking knight- Not that nights don't walk, like, regulary in their circumstances- I mean – It was shiny. Ok?

A Colobus, I belive.

I shrugged.

I something shiny reflected from behind the man's bald head.

It's hard to describe. Like a quick flash.

A snorting chuckle escaped my lips 'Phh… Im sure it fine.' Its not like there's a sniper or something. Well if there is one- He, he…

An image of my very own heroic dive for the bullet to stop from hitting a very confused and frustrated Mr. Schnoobs.

That means Schnee in my books, by the way.

I don't think that guy likes me all that much.

The old man took a tired sigh bowing his head down. Love it when they do that, bdw "Very good, Young Master." Bin. Get it, because his initials spell- Oh, wait…

He left…

A sniff escaped me.

"Bless you, child." A passing woman noted.

So I just stood, surrounded with people 'Huh… Must of dozed off again.' It took the last second to remind myself NOT to pick my nose open.

'He thinks he can escape the level 34 Master of Subterfuge…" A recoild sent me aback, as a bald , but not shiny, head founds its glamour amongst the crowd. I took a step forward

'Just you- Darn it. Lost him again.'

It was hidden away by a, if I do say so myself, a good looking hat. Purple really stuck out like a sore thumb in a sea of black, white and red toes.

It was a round hat with some feathers up top and a basket of fruits, don't know if real ones do.

And it was also a pretty wide-butt hat.

I nodded aproprietley to the passing dark skinned older woman, taking the steps after my good butler.

I followed after the purple shielding hat lady and it did the work, baldy's head poped up some four meters away through the crowd.

He's in a hurry it seems.

Always liked to run away from me. He thinks I don't notice, but I notice. Everyone notice.

But I always catch up, don't I?

Just remember Wellington… Poor old Wellington. Hope they did that vasectomy already, it realy got stuck far this time.

Pranks are an awesome revenge deal.

And like us peeps in Atlas like to say, Vengence is a juice best served in the cold.

I pushed myself in between a smelly-farty old guy and a nother older guy with sweety armpits 'Oh, stars.' Their big buts rubbed off me like that rough type Mr. Janitor uses.

Some rude guy pushed me aside with a rough shoulder making me falter to the side on to the right leg almost losing balance for a moment.

Hmph. Thinks he's some big-shot. What a butt.

Another on shiny head popped up behind the moving purple hat lady's back.

And then anotehr. And another. And another. And they all look EXACTLY alike. Not saying that all bald people look the same, but… Eh.

Three to four choices. Only one correct. Hmm…

I blinked.

'Oh right.' And pulled a hand off the side, moving the red jacket away and going in down into the deep pocket of my designer pants.

A snuffed familiar ringtone would be too hard to hear for a non-adventurer like me, but I was still an LV34 Blond Elf Assassin Class ball of awesomeness.

I know my biz.

The farthest one away was the one who stopped.

It. Was. Him.

I ignored the punch.

Orange and vanilla, by far my favorite. I only have one, like, every / birthday/ name-day/ Tuesday

It's usually made by one of the cooks, most likely that creepy guy that never takes his hat off. Or Mis. Bland. Or even Bin. He usually likes to jerk off in the kitchen closet.

Old coot sometimes even brings a friend.

The most disturbing part of those friends is that they're all pretty young.

Now that I think about it. Most of those kids don't even work on a mile radius of the Red Tower mansion.

His kids probably. I know he's kinda old, but some people are into that. Right?

I mean look at my mom.

She married the old man. And he was like… 20, say 21 years older?

Past the punch I went past the choco-fountain with cheesy tops.

No, no stomach, later yum yums now the mission.

The white sheets underneath it were decorated pretty neatly I must say.

Nice.

I squeezed in between a few people and took a quick walk around a group of four or more some of them smelled of one of those of Mistrali origins.

Exotic flowers, expensive fruits and rare minerals. You name em. They got it.

Another sniff left my nose but I have enough of formal training in these arts to hold in the natural desire use my bare hands to scratch all over my itchy, itchy face.

You know, now that I noticed it, this room isn't really that big. I've literally moved about five meters away from where I started.

With the constant influx of people coming in and out of the feasting-hall or simply passing towards more inner parts of the ship, one could not deny that they really make simple tasks like walking pretty, both, uncomfortable and annoyingly difficult.

Oh, and finding one bald guy? Yea… Well you get the picture.

'NOT important anyway. I'm super cool and never lose sight of my target if I do say so myself.' Any moment now and –AHA!

I jumped at him while he was still turned with his back to me.

Ah, the pouncing manoeuvre. Good, old and ever faithful.

People gasped, jumping away from us like if I were threatening them with a gun or a knife or whatever. Pansies! I wouldn't ever get scared by some loony jump-scare cuz I'm too awesome for that "My word!" The man yelped as his face came crashing down.

'Your words buddy, not mine!' I wanted to shout out. But of course, I couldn't.

My life is so~ HARD sometimes!

I shake my head and rub my jaw, taking a seat on the butler's backbone. Who would have known hitting some old guy's back wouldn't be as fun as I hoped it would be. I think I dislocated it. Hmm…

He skirmished and tossed his head around…- Wait a moment…

.

.

.

"I am under attack!" Swett drops start to leave my forehead 'Oh crap.' I blink in a way that must have looked pretty dumb to some of our observers "Guards! Guards! Help!" the man screamed and screamed again and again, almost breaking my ears with his high pitch voice.

I just sat there for a bit more. Mr. Brain took his good given time with deciding if I should move. And of course it didn't take long before-

"Get him off me!" A strong grip yanked me by the collar 'Ugh!' And my butt was suddenly crumbling across the red carpets that covered the floor.

"Alright, alright, Oum damn it." Then a someone picked me up "What thay hell's happenin' here?" and all I could smell was a cigar breath- Cough! Cough! Oum pls kill me!

Oum Blessed. He's spitting "What thay tarnashun is a-goin' on here?" red eyes looked down unto my hanging form.

My legs simply struggled under me as my face morphed into a one of disgust.

Oum damns it. He has four cigars. Of course he has! Why not. One isn't enough right. Two is better than one. But you know what they say; why to do it twice when it can be done for the whole week.

The man standing before me was a mass of muscle and not too cleanly shaved facial hair. Manly to the bone. His high cheek didn't serve his stoic face under a better light- Ohwaitwaitwaitwaitwait –Where's his nose!? Where the butt is his nose?! 'He's not going to eat me is he?' I struggled to wiggle my face away from his since we were uncomfortably close as it was already.

He let the minor smoke cloud leave his mouth and collide with my face sending me into a new fit of coughs.

Large man's eyes narrowed.

"Y'all a-tryin' ta start something here, punk?" he snarled as spit came out of his mouth and collided with my eyes making me squint.

How are those things not falling out of his mouth?!

My head shook vigorously. Eyes which were trying and failing to concentrate on him.

This guy had a grip of pure untainted stone. His rough eyes pierced my weak mortal soul like bullets through regular, non-bulletproof glass. Safe to say I was trying not to shatter.

He looked particularly nasty for a ginger.

Like some wartime story anti-hero or an anime character.

I feel like I should already know this guy for some reason. But I'm pretty sure I would remember meeting a noseless redneck. Or at least I would remember the smell.

A flash played in front of my eyes in what seemed like out of nothing the win felt dragging and beating against my face-

"Commander Clementine, please!" the man's eyes hardened even harder as the fist larger than most of my face stopped a mere inch away from my face.

Someone ran up to the big man, stomping into the ground with the force that could be heard by the mumbling crowd, passing them out of their tedious chatter and making them pay more attention to the even in front of their rich eyes.

Unlike the forest green fat combat chest piece of steel that lay on the apparent commander of the group and the arguably clean shirt, the leaner young man one was a bit more outfitted in pieces that looked more sporadic with the armorments. Having a single left shoulder-guard with an oval streak of black lines forming an ecstatic symbol of a try-horned blackfish.

A brown and black horizontaly stripped sash past his midriff over the green, apparently standard forest green shirt with (unlike the commander's) lowered sleeves.

Nervous shaking kinda took away from his credibility of authority to say the least, as he approached the superior officer.

"W-with all due respect…Uh- S-sir!" He added.

The poor boy was shaking all over even as he tried to mask it, rather poorly if you ask anyone watching.

One hand was left holding me up in the air as the merciless stare was turned from me away to the side.

I sighed in relief.

Two sharp cut eyebrows moved with the other hand as even the last bit's of self-confidence left the younger soldier as a nother hand pulled HIM by the shirt and almost literally tossed into me. Our heads collided in the air, but the big-butt commander didn't seem to mind as he spat at the shaking soldier's face "Something ta add, private?" saliva splattered against the young man's face.

I looked at him shaking "Y-y-! Uh-! No Sir- I mean YES- No! Uh…" The Devil's Division. That's right. Now I remember.

This guy belongs to the Devil's Division. The best and brutalist mercenary group in all of Vale.

Many don't consider them any better than the raider gangs and bandit tribes who they are most oftenly hired to exterminate of the face of the Remnant, do to their often usage of extreme force in cases where the villages have not been able to pay back their due.

Some reports indicate that they have even attacked some positions simply do to their convenience to their cause. Such as easier communications, better supply lines and checkpoints for increased mobility and efficiency of their boys and so on.

But you know what they say: It's rather easy to rise over your competition if they mysteriously decide to disappear.

"Ay am whel aware, private!" every time the bearded commander opens his mouth, spit comes out.

The private cringed.

How did this poor butt even get into the DEVIL division?! They literally have 'DEVIL' in the name. And this guy is more of a dove than anything else.

And… Commander Clementine.

Well… He is THE one freaking commander of Hunter-Killer group. A past Huntsman, turned raider, turned mercenary. Raised in the Rusty Islands just northwest of the coast of Vacuo must have not been so good.

Outside of the four kingdoms, most factions rarely hold enough power to properly defend themselves. These 'minor kingdom' islands are often referred to as 'Cliques' inside of most notable sources and knowledge banks of the past as all but a certain few have been discovered till this day.

There is even a fewer of those 'Independent Kingdoms', who are willing to share anything more than the bare necessities. One of them are the Rusty Islands.

Or at least that's how everyone else calls them.

… And Mr Nice-Clem is one of them.

Look. I'll try not to confuse you even more with this. The guy doesn't have a nice record. From betrayals of the customers when the things go stiffy to bribery and forgery of false documents, I wouldn't trust the backbone of world's betters with a lowlife commoner like him from some uncultured nation from Oum knows where.

Father bought his services for the duration of the big business trip to Vale for some reason "Now, that there y'all have wasted enough av my time;" he stated, spitting some more.

I flinched this time as his face almost buried into my own.

"SPEAK UP Y'ALL LITTLE SHIT!" Ugh… One of his teeth is jagged over the lower lip. Cant belive I didn't notice that, like, the moment he grabbed me.

My eyes, previously wide, shrunk down to the size of tiny pebbles as I felt something get stuck in the bottom of the throat… 'W-wait? ...'

The man growled out in anger as I was literaly speechless.

The crowd behind him started to talk in a hushed tone in between each other, mumbling and already starting to come up with the latest gossips.

"M-my back… " the old imposter was still down.

About how some lowlife peasant from some backwater province of Vacuo who is shouting down at a Lordling.

Wow, that's so embarrassing…

…

…For me…

…

Right eye twitched 'H-he does know who I am, right?' the previously scared shitless attitude started to wash away into the pit, slowly turning in to a scowl.

Then I did something I should have already know I would regret.

…

I bit his hand…

And found my face being splattered against the steel hard floor.

Then all was dark.

* * *

"Oh… dear." A familiar looking silver headed buttler mutted in to his palm as he, in between many other people stood witness to the powerful headbutt-knockout. Amongst the assult of a nother coligue of Bella's and the quick responders lightning quick arrival.

'He must have been taking his route around the dining lounge.' The old butler mused to himself, thinking of, of course, the famous Commander Clementine.

The man let go of his subordinate who really should be learning some self-control. Poor lad doesn't know with what he is tangling himself with.

The **D'sD** are no children entertainers.

A highly motorized and battle-hardened group, armed to the teeth.

They do not do civilized.

They are no more than a pack of bloodrats with an undisputed hunger for that which glitters.

'What would such a well-looking young man be searching in between this uncultural rabble is beyond me.' Bella sighed tiredly as he facepalmed hand fell down to his hip.

Taking care of the young brat is such an exhausting sort of business.

The butler rubbed his wrists as both fists crossed over the backbone 'It makes me so sweaty.'

The brute rose the lordling's head smashing it into the carpet again while cursing out some rather earful comments in an unneeded sort of language.

Curses like ' _Cabrão!_ ', ' _Foder!_ ' and ' _Monte De Merda!_ '.

Ivan snorted "What a _degenerate_ language…" he must have picked it up from one of those self-proclaimed independent settlements in Vacuo.

Do, this is Vacuo we are speaking of here.

It's not like they have any actual control of a pot of child's litter.

The brute kept pounding the boy's head into the floor with the brutality that made many guests recoil in pure fear, the lord of Wingstead even recoiled and hurled some of his containments he had been storing inside the guts all over the beautiful red Mistralite carpet.

'Such a shame.'

Now it was ruined… 'Just like my leggings.' A cracked piece of a white glimmer fell right before Bella's black pair of shoes.

Noticing it, the old man lowered his poor back and picked up the small white piece, dotted in a red splash pattern where it spiked, in between the thumb and the pointer finger.

He rose it high, all the way up to his eyes, taking a quizzy look at it, as if he was willing to argue to the small bloody piece of skeletal structure.

"Should I… Or should I not stop this?" the butler spoke out to himself, musing to the chin "LITTLE SHIT!" the Commander cursed very loudly, shaking his throbbing hand around like if it's on fire as he threw one more painful looking kick into the boy's ribcage.

Master Falten would probably not approve 'Sigh…'

The butler decided to finally step up.

Both fists stayed intertwined behind his back even as he walked and pushed his way in between the crowd of scared nobles and rich men and women.

A mask of a scowl covered his face as a few hushed 'what?s' came from around him as the private ranked soldier-boy scrattled away with a salute, never looking back after that boss of his shouted something into his ear that was rather unclear from this far off.

Even do Clementine has a distinctively recognisable tone of speaking.

It was fun, all _17.6_ seconds that it lasted, do.

You can't say the boy didn't deserve it, now can you?

…

 _But still…_

…

Even do this was mostly enjoyable, it did help to paint the brutish Commander in a right way.

Do I do not fret, how Mr Falten will feel of this.

Ho, ho! Not well. I assure you.

A chuckle escaped the man

"Oh, but excuse me, young man." Cdr. Clementine snapped his head with a growl as a white-gloved hand pressed upon his shoulder.

Bella Ivan's snowy-cold eyes stared up into the flaming inferno that was this man's ill-managed temper.

Ivan, while tall by the most accounts, still had to stretch his neck and to look up at the big brutish pile of muscle and bone that stood before him. There was not much to be impressed by in the butler's head.

…

This is going to be a really, really long day.

The butler faltered, blinking away from the larger man's tense glare "I must most humbly ask you to calm yourself down." The butler noted neutrally looking down at the

Bluthaven's eyes are spinning in circles as the bloody bubble grows from inside his nose just to pop almost instantly.

The butler's eyes quickly shot back up as he smiled politely.

He nodded "Sir Clementine." Coughing into the gloved fist stat came forward to stop the pathogens from spreading into the air.

Commander eyed the butler's suit. There was a nametag right under the one of many pockets of course.

Mr Bella I. Novak

The thug grunted in acknowledgement.

Ivan nodded once more "Indeed." A stern finger rose right in front of the Commander's nose-hole " You have overstepped your boundaries and- Ugh, just a moment, please." He WAS going to lecture him properly about, well, boundaries of responsibility and all that shmuck. But these people are really starting to get a rise from the gentleman in white and black.

He shooed them off with his hands like a pack of children "Alright. You may be excused." A young teen that came a bit to close was forcefully turned around his heels and spanked away over his back, to send him back into the crowd "Thank you, thank you." For added measure Ivan pushed q few people, and nudged one more before the crowd realised they were to leave.

With a "Cough!" the butler's attention was returned back to the annoyed brute "Right." He noted smugly "As we were." There was a lot of lecturing that is about to happ-

"Fuck off." Clementine turned around and simply walked off without a word.

Ivan's eyes widened in shock for a second as he doubled his step, speedily stepping his way right to in front of the Commander "N-now, wait just a moment there, young man!"

Clementine growled into the chin, his eyes wandered away from the scrawny old man. A small glittering light caught his momentary attention as it was blown in through the one and only BIG doorway.

But back to business.

His strong back straightened comfortably.

"Commander, must I remind you that what you have just done here is a considered a crime! Worth imprisonment and execution if the Lord Father deems so." The butler stated seriously. Both fists were already folded behind his back.

"Ay am a-doin' what ay am payed ta."

Ivan stepped to the side, blocking him from breaking his way past "YOU have overstepped! Master Falten has made it painfully clear that his own party guests were off the limits!"

I'm getting too old for this job.- Did he just 'Tsk' me?!'

"It does not matter the occurrence." This man's attitude was becoming quite infuriating each more second passed.

Apparently it was both-sided since the Commander jabbed his greasy finger into the middle of the butler's chest with a force that was more than enough to put a noticeable dent in the old man's protective aura.

The man growled like an angry wolf as Ivan's eyes widened.

Spit came down crashing against the butler's face and he flinched as a drop fell into his right eye.

Ugh… Gross.

Not that the old man Butler had time to say anything before he was pushed back once more, making him almost lose the balance and fall over on his butt.

The meaty finger pulled back down to the heavy leather belt that lay "That's nahwt how ay do things, bud."

Well, someone is serious about their job.

"Now you listen here y-!" the offended look over the butler's face told a story of its own, but for now he had to keep this professional. Even do he could bearly stand having to hear such sass from a lowlife commoner. A COMMONER of all else!

B-but he WAS- No! He IS a man of high regard among these respectable noble-bloods.

But before the chance for his retort to break into the large man's ears, a wrinkled young (-er) hand lightly pressed against his left shoulder and held him from the intended step onwards.

"I shall take it from here, my uncle." A rather mellow voice of a grown man spoke confidently.

And like a puppy in the presence of its master, "I- Uh. Yes, sir." Ivan calmed his senses down even do it struck his pride. Taking commands from children was one thing. He could depose these minuscule threats as his position allowed him to. But THE Lord he was sworn in to was a completely another thing.

Especially when lord Papier didn't like to tolerate insubordination. That boy. Ivan watched him grow from that small brat into his sister's exact copy.

…Aparently it runs in the family. Now with Blut.

The man let go of the butler's shoulder "I excuse you."

Of course, there is the fact how the father has his own problematic quirks. Such as his insistency to keep referring to himself in almost every conversation he can sneak it in to.

"Clap, clap. Not to waste my time, old friend." 'Yes of course.'

"Of course, your greatness." Inside his head, Ivan knew the Lord wouldnt notice the sarcastic undertone thanks to how great it was hidden under his usually glorifying words.

Or maybe he did know, just decided not to act on it. As is expected of him simply to humour the butler.

Not that he would know.

Diplomacy was a dirty business, indeed. It has a tendency to mend people in certain ways that make them less and less of a human than what they started from.

So Ivan took his leave.

Trailing past to the boy who was yet to actualy be aproched by anyone or even be remotely looked over.

He picked him up by the collar and tossed over in to his hardened old hands. Like a little bride on a wedding day… Only with a broken nose and a few screw teeth.

What is sad is that this is not even close to the first time something like this happened.

The boy is rash, undisciplined, prideful, arrogant and all in all subjective during the very little interactions he has with the outside world.

One time Mr. Papier decided it might be a good experiment to see how the boy would react if put in to a public school.

… As you may have or have not guessed. It turned out rather poorly.

He was regualry abused by a perticualr set of bullies. And it did nothing to inspire the love for the people he saw in them.

A lion does not comfort himself in the opinions of the sheep. Once a wise man said.

Yet the boy insists to let himself be driven down and scared of the same people that are tehnicaly underneath him.

Ivan looked down at the boy, not wasting energy to turn his neck and look down fully as they went past a few gossipers and through the big deck doors.

'The boy has a heart at least.' The butler mused, watching him actauly be pretty peaceful for the situation he created.

He sighed "A fine one at that…" 'He just needs help showing it.' They walked past the corner of the buzzing deck, from where a few or fewer people threw offhand glanced their way before losing interest and going back to their things.

'A single friend would do excuisit if he found such.' His sister is better off in that regard.

The little princess was always quite a good spirit, especaily when it came to the art of the toungs.

In a diplomatic manner, of course.

The sun had yet to move up, much higher in to the sky.

'It was 10:15h the last time I have checked the clock.' The seagulls flew past the the man's vision, taking a quick swivel in the air turning and circling the not too big metal ship.

They probably expected some easy catch.

Ivan grunted lightly as his shoulder lowered down with the boy, carefully pressing down and opening the heavy steel coated door.

It was sort of rounded at the top, giving it an organic feeling, rather than the sharp edges like most doors equipped by… well, everyone.

There was also this little round window with a thick messure of dust-resistant glass.

And a little red napkin hanging on both inner and outer parts of the said window. Most likely made of a fabric that resists moisture.

Hmm. Quality over quantity, that one.

The short hallway on the other end of the thick plated door was one solid streak of a brown fluffy substance that lined the floor like a pathway.

Divided from one another stood a row of taller sets of coffe tables. Each voicing a decorative nightstand lamp on top of it, each of whom shuns a timid yellowish light across the narrow room.

There stood a sainting or two divided by meter away from the left to the right of each table, many of them depicting men and women with surreal amounts of cloth tossed AROUND their selves, showing many wishful eyes a show to enjoy theme selves.

And of course then there were numbers and door frames to match them.

The two took no stop in one of these lower ends.

There was no need to tangle ourselves with the burghers at this point.

'Upwards through the stairway we go.' To the right side of the first five steps instead of a door stood another narrow hall.

Maybe just a bit wider. Enough for two and half a quarter people to walk side by side with no complaint.

It realy was enough, considering the not so many people who passed through here didn't realy come in rows.

Most people simply used the lifter. But alas, those things are always crowded to the point Ivan could not comprehend. (They were bearly big enough for more two people!)

It's not the first level. This one was infested with the tree-huggers and their pesky muts.

'I can feel my nose becoming itchy by the moment we spend longer in this wretched place.' the butler continued onwards, pulling his gloved hand inside one of his many pockets and pulled out one of even many(-er) pieces of cloth.

It rubbed around his wetting nostrils.

A dog barked, biting in to the bulter's phobia.

Ok, he, he- Im just kidin… The little sucker got him on the leg.

"YAGH!"

For some unnatural reason animals never liked the poor old (not so poor) sod.

* * *

On top of a circular blue painted platform stood a small childish figure, dressed in a beautiful white gown that was just so close to reaching the floor. It was noticeable by the way the white and black striped material's durability against dust and all the wetness.

The girl's brownish hair was tied into a bun on the behind of the neck where it stuck downwards like a chocolate cupcake, tied down by a small wrap of dark gray, almost black in color cloth whitch hang down just a few centimeters in two lines.

A ping rang out from inside the wealthy gowns.

And then another one.

The girl's dark eyes blinked as the left foot kept tapping on the blue surface with anticipation.

"What now?" one of her short eyebrows rose just so slightly.

Rising her hand, she stared down at a small slim device that lay on her wrist, tied from one to the other side with a small belt and plastic buckle.

Like a digital watch, a rotating set of the number was always so present on the top side of the creation, flashing in between it's content and a black screen, meant for power reserving.

A small red dot blinked in the downed right corner repetatly.

It meant a message has been recived and it was only waiting to be opened by the creation's owner and read through.

So she did so with the remaining bored look that never faltered from her face.

"Hmm." The girl blinked again as her hand gracefuly lowered down and shifted behind her back, against her buzzoms "2 days." She noted, stretching the 's' just for a moment longer, before allowing her lips to make a satisfiying pop.

"He's realy getting good at this." She said lamely while turning around from the gorgeous view of the sea and the green, lush landmass that stretched to the side as long as a human eye could see.

It realy looked alive thanks to all the birds that flew around carelessly.

Other animals from here would seem like nothing more than specks of dust.

On the platform, standing by the door stood a whole team of three young women.

All of them were dressed in much simpler, yet not realy dresses fitting of a position of maids to the Young Mistress.

"Should we accompany you, my Lady?" the blond haired one on the left asked as the little lady walked gracefuly by them.

Schwarz Falten waved to them over her back, disappearing behind the thick metal door that shut behind her back "Take five, girls."

They all bowed deeply.

* * *

Lady Schwarz entered through the small red stuffed door "What did the clut do this time."

Ivan stood in the middle of a miniature apartment. Yeah, you heard me right. An apartment. Not a simple room every other burgher would know of.

And the prime color was red.

It could be seen on the pinkish looking walls whitch had blood red curtains hanging down in every corner, over every porthole on both sides of the room leaving the only theelectric light in a shape of a chandelier hanging over the center, over a bloody red round rug that lay under a standing darkwood table.

Candles, cutlery, three books (one open and two closed and tossed by the edge) a plate of half eaten cookies and a pen, laying on the open book.

Bella Ivan stood gracefully by the messy chair "The Young Master has awoken." The deadpaned tone spoke it's own story.

"Hmm?" she blinked in confusion.

Ivan quickly added "But I saw fit to put his grace back to rest."

"Ah." It was rather calm here. No video games set to over 100% volume or the obnoxious idea of reading comics in your underpants.

ONLY your underpants...

The book's open, whitch must mean he was eather studying or left tit open with a few scribbles here and there to make it look like he had studied. A classic trick.

Unlike him Schwarz at least puts some effort in to it.

Read in between lines, always change pages, you can scribble down everything into notes and draw something on the side while you wait for your timer to pass. (or just use your Scroll-Twitch… or a normal Scroll if you don't have this baby).

The younger sister took a small glance at the watch on her wrist and then back.

These older brothers are so backwards in time.

"Good call." She shrugged neutraly before both were thrown into a small pit of silence.

…

…

"Would you like to see him?"

"That would be well, yes."

The butler coughed uncomftrubly into the silence and turned around to the first door (and only) door to the right side of the small, small hallway, around 2 meters long at best.

It didn't take him long to stop by the door. Two or three steps at most.

Schwarz took to following him. Her hands remained posted in front of her waist, crossed one over the other.

And as (almost) always, she was biting her lower lip.

It's a tick she picked up some time ago. Was it eight or seven years ago.

She was ususaly very messy when eating those pastries so she ended up getting her face all messed up with chocolate and that other stuff. The thing is that she never realy let anyone wipe it off since she wanted to do it herself… But I think you already guess where this boat is headed.

Schwarz nodded to the butler as he cautiously opened the door.

Only to recive a flying pillow to the face.

Schwarz stepped past the old butler not to face her brother who took a victorious position with his leg up on the queen sized bed's wooden edge, but to look up at the butler with an indiferent face "He's awake, Mr Novak."

The old man pealed the pillow off his face and tossed it on to a fancy wooden and red pillow cushioned chair.

"I see…" his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Then I shall take my leave." With a mall cough into his white gloved fist he backpedalled out of the room slowly "Right now- Ferrwell." And the door shut into the young girl's face making her flinch.

She took a second to breathe, looking at the empty and COMPLEALTY normal wooden door "Sigh."

She let her graceful façade fall down inside that moment as her previously crossed hands- well, I mean HAND, as in one. (Einz! Uno!)

Yeah. So, she basicly pinched her forehead.

"You assaulted Lord Trost's butler mainguard...?" behind her shoulders, the boy froze in the middle of his new attack with another one of these deadly pillows. Even do his nose looked like- No. It IS broken in half. I mean it's hanging to the SIDE and swinging around like a sock full of butter!

Schwarz opened her onyx eyes looking rather mortified into the dark brown wooden door standing in front of her.

Blut shifted in his uncomftruble striking position. But he was DETERMINED to keep the puffy feather filled headrest inside his hand's grip.

Yay! Undertale references…

The girl turned around, her head still throbbing like nuts "Why did you even do such a thing~?"

He fell on his back like a rock, hands in a 'T' (with pillow present).

Then he shrugged.

Her hands fell limp as did the spine "We're in such truble…Ugh." She deadpanned as a pillow struck her fallen face.

It just kinda stuck there for a good long moment of silence… Then- BOOM.

Feathers went flying around as the white pillow burst.

Blut rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Do that again... And ill burst you." The black eyes narrowed dangerously.

Another pillow hit on the mark.

* * *

" _ **FINISH HIM**_ " bold red letters splattered across the screen announced by the MANLYEST of voices.

 _Ooooh_ … How awesome!

Schwarz gracefzuly poked the console's buttons just slow enough to make it tedious "Back. Forward. Back. Forward. A~nd… SQUARE!" the grey patted ninja run forward slamming his (/hers?) open palm into the lips of a large four handed figure with a very, very, very, very, very, VERY stupid man bun rising in the middle of the monster's ugly four eyed head.

Smoke scame out of the monster's nose, ears and other holes… and 'POP' his head simply exploded with steam.

A chair flew through the holoscreen (but just bearly).

Hmmm… Now, who dosent like good ol' The Battle of Living X? Only the most awesome and gory filled videogame of the year?

"Sore loser." Schwarz lay the controller on to the empty couch seat next to her.

With a frown, the boy took out his Scroll.

And a message popped on Schwarz's Scroll-Twitch.

B: **Yare, yare.**

"You are." She leaned back.

B: **I can still kick your ass!**

He jumped to his feet, arms crossed.

The girl rolled her eyes not taking the 'threat' very seriously "I can still pop your head."

Not like that wasn't true. She probably could just pop him if she willed so.

Bluthaven gulped.

B: **Stupid overpowered Semblance…**

'I have, like ten times better skills and everything than you.' The boy scoffed in his head as his hand mimicked a moving mouth mockingly 'Ooooh! Look at me! I have, like a super awsome cool Semblance! Pftt… I DON'T need some stupid ''Aura'' or ''Semblance'' to be awesome!'

The younger sister scoffed with an undertone cackle "It's not important anyway. We already have responsibilities to take care of to think about fighting." She threw some cash out of Moon I don't want to know where "You can make other people fight for you with a little… Compensation." She winked at the last part twice.

Almost like she's suggesting something morally wrong… Hmm…

B: **Well maybe I don't want to BUY myself out of every situation!**

The boy looked around for, some Moon damn reason, her words.

She shrugged neutrally "Yeah, I got nothin." And again, he scoffed.

'Oh come on! How obvius do I have to be!?' he said, snapping the nose back into position with an audible crack that the girl didn't even flinch at.

B: **You know im seriously getting tired of getting attacked like this! I want to do something about it! I don't just want to be the punching bag. Im supposed to take father's Burg when he lifts the feet.**

The boy marched in a small circle as he ranted on the messager application.

"Well, aren't you already taking fighting lessons with Ivan?" Schwarz crossed her legs and rose an eyebrow in question.

The boy stopped in his place, facing towards her and away from the still shining bloody match outcome on the holoscreen.

He furiously typed into the little device as fast as only he could type.

B: **I am! But the only thing he does is yell 'DODGE!' and then beat me up! It's like some sort'a beating up kids boner**

"Mhm…" the girl hummed slowly "And that's why you…" her eyes trailed off latterly anywhere else.

B: **That's why I wanted to get a jump at him down there! (Seriusly, why do all old guys look the same?) Im to cool to be a ruffan!**

Schwarz blinked "That's just butler-phobic."

"Why don't you get someone else then? Just ask father. Im, sure he wouldnt mind." She sighed ironicaly, making him stiff in a quick burst of little sister's stupid suggestions type of outrage.

B: **Mo**

B: * _ **No**_

Typo. That scourge of modern communication.

"Hmm?" she bit her lower lip "Im only saying."

Blut pouted, taking a leap on to the comfy and still very much throbbing butt from an impressive 2.5 meters straight from next to the holoscreen.

It's a big holoscreen.

'I just want to be a hero…'

B: Trust me, little sibling, I shall be a great warrior known by his awesomeness and coolness and awesome look that all ladies are going to fall for, in not so long!

B: **JUST YOU WAIT!**

'Is that so much to ask for?

Schwarz leaned to the side of the couch with her elbow supporting her head.

"Please do tell that you hold no plans to enter Atlas Academy…"

A prestigious academy it may be, but for someone of a Noble heretige, it is considered rather…-uh. Lacking.

If a noble is to learn self-defense and martial arts needed for a military carrier they are to do so from a private source or at the beast least take a 'Private Academy' of sorts. Do those are reserved for some more… lesser Nobles. Or Counts if you're Valeish.

There are few that would come to mind initialy.

Gale Academy for instance. Well known and frowned upon thanks to a reacent public scandal with corruption. While not the purest of examples such as Trost Academy in the most prestegius Atlas, it still ranks higher than the unexisting one over Vacuo.

Trost Academy is located in the far south shoreline of the Kingdom of Atlas, farther away from the capital unlike the other five 'Private' Schools.

It's a real heven for those who are willing to follow orders and a hell to those that don't. (basicly a boot camp times six).

There was only a single death reported in the last fifteen years.

There are the three decoy PA-s: Zipan, Asriel and Ho Lee Fuk.

Don't ask.

…

Well. There is one other- No, wait. I mean there's TWO! Two other PA-s.

One in the Winter Island in the upmost north point of Mistral. But don't let the name mislead you, the small habitat is no island. At least it isn't one anymore.

Thanks to the Mistral govererment proving their influence over the regon by connecting the small piece of frozen tundra and solid rocks with an unnatural heap of pebbles and sand.

Maybe in a few hundred, it will be again.

But that may happen only if the city of Mistral fails to keep their hold over the small conquered territory up north.

No One's Land Academy, the academy best knows by its small size and exclusively tradicionalist policies excluding nonnatives from attendance.

And by non-natives it means anyone who isn't an Escimo.

Or emo.

Depends how you look at it.

And of course, there is Cyka Blyat.

While tehinicly not a part of the Kingdom of Atlas, it stands just on the Point of No Return. In the snowy borderalnds where the winter strikes so ahrd that your balls jingle like Montynas bells.

Only the most sturdy of folk survive those climates… But we'll get to that soon enough.

"Because I could unlock your aura at this moment, right now." She bit her lip "If you want." Adding quckly.

B: **No way!**

Yeah. Didn't think so.

But it was still worth a try.

"Mhm… Well, then I AM going to take the business and all the benefits coming with it. How about that?"

A worthy suggestion or not. He wouldn't agree.

The boy shook his head dismissively just to prove my point.

Whatever.

The girl chuckled pointing at him lazily with the pinky finger, not even taking a look where it pointed (spoiler alert, she missed him) "Don't come criying to me when I am announced the heiress."

It's realy just a matter of days now.

And its wall all found in her little chart about how things will plan out.

And well, well, well, well, well, well, Well. Did it pass her expecteations.

Bluthaven showed his tounge prematurely.

"Im not insulting your half-witted mind." She rolled her eyes and stopping "Alright, maybe I am, but that is not important."

She pushed herself off the comfy red sticky couch. Crunchy chips cracked under her body's weight.

Her bare feet touched the furry rug graciously taking a good rub left and right just for the good feeling before formally slipping into the pair of two black ballerina-like slippers.

In a swift motion that made her gown swirl around in the air and stop only by her hands getting pressed against her waist in a formal position.

A sweet fake smile plastered across her face as her head tilted "I am simply stating the fact." She giggled (also fake, if you're not catching up) "Hm, hm! You have a terrible tendency not to think before you act, dearest brother of mine." Her head tilted back as her face deadpanned "Get over it."

Blut scoffed.

'Yeah, whatever. Like I'm going to give my title to some snoopy two-face.'

HAH! Never gonna happen you butt!

The girl started to move away "You are a LITTERAL magnet for trouble, brother and you know it."

She stepped towards the exit from the cabin apartment of her older (only by age) brother.

It didn't take much to reach and open the semi-electric door.

…

Now that I think about it, having electric doors on a very sinkable door isn't really a good idea.

Rumble.

She stopped.

Blut stared at her. His thick skull had probably still felt decent throbs over a couple seconds lapse, but it was no biggy. For as it was already said multiple time, just to have been made obvious: He had worse before.

(And besides, he's like a super quick healer)

Her head turned slowly with a polite smile "But then again, I am likely wrong." That made the boy per up exponentially. A wide proud grin grew over his face "As father says, a worthy man opens the door to a Lady." She nudged her head slightly to the side "I'm hungry." He jumped up from his seat all proud of himself.

Swagger took hold of his whole mind as he walked his way past the girl and opened the door by her eyes only following after his movements 'Yeah! Good thing I remembered that –Pfh. What am I saying? Of course, I did. I'm AWESOME! Duh.'

"Good. As a good man would serve his sister, I require the chocolate cake to be brought here by my responsible older brother." Thanks to no push backwards, the girl simply pushed the lanky brother out of "Please do so." She quickly added just as the door shut into his butt, throwing him into the close silk covered metal wall cheek-first.

He peeled himself off like a thrown off bubblegum.

'Hah! I'll show you how awesome I am, you cheeky butt!'

And swaggered away like a penguin right by the still standing Ivan and towards his new destination: Buffet Table Number 6.

He'll show her who's boss.

* * *

"Pfhh." The said girl burst down in giggles which only had a few oinks present inside of them.

Yeah, she oinks when she snickers/laughs or giggles. So what?! Not like she's going to do it in front of people, servant or Noble.

"What an idiot." She pulled away one crystal clear tear, flicking it away from her onyx eyes as she was walking back to the couch. Her feet wiggled around just enough to slip off the slippers and send them flying across the rug, randomly, before she took back her seat at the couch and claimed back the controller of a master gamer.

"Ew…" Something wet slurped against her butt.

When she lifted herself and her gown with other hand (which had to let the controller go, by the way) a pepperoni pizza fell down into its previous resting place.

" _Gross._ "

* * *

And now we're here.

About to die.

The fire was getting dangerously closer 'Hot! Hot! Hot! HOT!' my body wiggled around like crazy! The metal pole inside the piggy had already gotten too hot to touch and push away!

'Fuu-!'

A roar of pure white cloud of foam washed all over my skin, extinguishing all the burning butt around me.

Some of it came into my mouth 'Gross!'

A hand pulled for my collar, and LITERALLY slapping the foam off my face, I came eye to eye with a VERY unhappy cold, cold pure snow white gaze.

Of Pops.

...

… Why can't I peace?

* * *

Heavy breaths ran from my exhausted lungs like crazy.

I dove down behind a green pile of garbage cans and a big one coloured black just as a swarm of bullets swarmed through my favourite hat tossing it into the puddle, lighted by the small lantern light of a single useless lamp that was lit on in the middle of the night for some reason.

The black material was soaking as my hand snapped after the fedora.

But two more bullets zipped just past my hand almost instantly as I pulled it out of cover to collect the only thing left of my past "Damn it!" u cussed. Yeah! I did. So what? It's appropriate, considering the situation.

My eyes jumped from the spotlight that the small, white ribboned hat lay into the sound of steps getting to close for the anyone's liking.

Just a hat.

'I can't end like this!'

"Gotcha brat!"

I took a run for it mere moments before a muscular hand went over my smelly cover and tried to snatch me by the head.

I HAVE to reach the PD! This- This can't wait! I gotta go! I- I can't stop.

Bullets ran past me as the end of the narrow side alley was getting closer and closer after I took an another corner to my left.

Crap!

A barricade of bad guys with even worse mullets tried to block my way with their MP-64-s and flashlights just standing there behind a wall of two parked cars which they made a crucial mistake of leaving the lights on. So an ambush was pretty much to be expected. SO I reacted before they could act.

Diving to the side, I avoided one guy's stupidly obvious nosedive straight from behind the corner.

"AH!" but he grabbed me by the boot anyway and I fell like a brick into the mud. Only it wasn't mud but water created by the recent rain that befell the metropolitan city.

"Go away!" I quickly tried kicking him in the face, but he just bearly dodged his face getting a broken nose. And thanks to his pal who grabbed at my shoulders and tossed me to the side for not trying it again.

"Shut the hell up you noisy brat!" then I rolled back to my feet quickly thanks to this idiot literally throwing me like a rolled up pancake (You guys know what those are, right?) I almost mashed my face against a metal ladder as one goon pointed his MP-64 at me.

But taking in the panic I grabbed the first thing I could and tried to pull it down as a weapon.

This is a very, very infamous part of the city by the way. It's known as 'The Subway' because (I don't know where exactly) is a litter dump that makes the entire subarea a dump disposal area of the rich.

And parts of the city like this are rarely given any funds to rebuild during the annual Grimm invasions every year when the creatures break through the fence and lay waste on the whole region for about an entire week. People usually already go down into their personal bunkers by then so deaths are mostly a small phenomenon, excluding the militia which is anualy called in right before the barrier collapse to clean the city of its pest and mostly provide support for hunter teams that the government sometimes buys in to.

So basically.

It's a shit hole.

Crumble! Crumble. Crack!

The last few rusty bolts have been unhinged and the single-story metal platform crumbled down on top of the man with a submachine gun, squashing him underneath the rusted steel cages in the shape of a platform.

Pushing myself away just in time I managed to not find myself underneath all that.

"Bitch! She's gat Harley!" another one, green-eyed man rose his weapon just as I managed to get myself up from the dirty pavement.

He opened fire in a burst of bullets that ate at his magazine like chowder.

Thankfully his aim was not really good. As nor was the weapon he used meant for middle-to-long distance combat. Bullets hit in the ground beneath my feet, in the lamps and windows and trash cans.

Even more, came as four more men came down the alley two of them wielding machetes.

Friendly fire didn't occur even do it seemed inevitable as the two rushed after me in a slow paste.

Well.

Slower than mine.

Fear is hell of a motivator.

Beeps and many steps were becoming louder and louder as I was nearing the main street were what made my hopes go up.

"AAUGH!" that is until my hand suddenly felt cold as blood exploded making me loos my step, tangling my feet together "Ugh!" the fall alone smashed my nose in, making it bleed out in a painful extension.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! My fucking hand!" my fist was bleeding like mad I squeezed it in between my legs and left fist that squeezed at it "A-Gh!" making me yelp in pain even more before realising how bad of an idea it really was.

In between a rock and a hard place, really…

* * *

 _ **A.N: Oh and yeah. Before I forget. If you want to add OC's for some other teams, please do. You have time till the end of this Arc.**_

 _ **You know. Other teams.**_

 _ **Cuz RWBY, JNPR, CRDL and BANS can't be the only ones present.**_

 _ **I need at least 2 more.**_

 _ **Here's a little riddle for you to mush around your brain (No real reason behind this. I'm just bored)**_

 _ **A DOCTOR OPERATED ON A BOY. THE BOY WAS THE DOCTOR'S SON BUT THE DOCTOR WASN'T THE BOY'S FATHER. WHO IS THE DOCTOR?**_

 _ **Leave a review.**_

 _ **And till then.**_

 _ **;D**_

 _ **Don't do global terrorism kids!**_


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